how do you wanna face it? when the end is so close you can taste it
“Raza,” the darker woman replies, something vaguely predatory rising in her as ‘Thomas’ looks up and opens his thighs. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the wine, the tone of his voice, or simply being in a topping position that makes her grin a little lopsidedly. A smirk, really, without any sort of ill intentions behind it.
His opening gives her the invitation she needs and the proprietress advances with the wine glass crooked between two fingers, palm cupped below it as if she were some high brow lady used to this kind of thing. Raza stops when his inner thighs brush up against her legs and then she leans over and reaches gently for his chin, tilting it up and towards her.
“How’s your cock?” she asks with a callous brazenness. If she’s going to settle this debt, she's going to get what she wants.
His opening gives her the invitation she needs and the proprietress advances with the wine glass crooked between two fingers, palm cupped below it as if she were some high brow lady used to this kind of thing. Raza stops when his inner thighs brush up against her legs and then she leans over and reaches gently for his chin, tilting it up and towards her.
“How’s your cock?” she asks with a callous brazenness. If she’s going to settle this debt, she's going to get what she wants.
